Full Concentration

Today at yoga, while squished and upside down in "plow pose" I had an asphyxia-induced revelation.(I did a snappy pace run by myself earlier this morning, the kind where you squeeze the "stop timer" button on your Garmin and smile when you see your stats. This was followed by the completion of a column I write for a local publication, so I "treated" myself to yoga they way I used to treat myself to cookie dough or a box of junior mints. Good girl.)I was cold from sitting in my office post-run and sans-shower, despite the fact that I had changed clothes. So the heated studio felt divine. I stretched out on my mat before class began, tucked a block under my hips, and let the weight of the world melt into oblivion. I felt fluid and my breath came easily today as I let the poses work the running kinks out of me. Towards the end of class, Scott instructed us to lift up into an inversion--I stayed safely in shoulder stand because I tried I headstand last week and my neck hurt for two days afterward. Then he told us to bend back into plow pose.For non-yogis, picture yourself on your back with your legs flipped back over your shoulders, toes resting on the ground, eventually knees dropping beside your ears. The effect is a constricting scrunch that used to bring on mild panic for me, feeling claustrophobic and short of breath. I'm getting better, maybe because I know that if I just relax I will be able to breathe. Today, Scott spoke some wisdom to our scrunched up class, "I know this can be an uncomfortable pose, but you can get comfortable in it. Relax and try to enjoy turning inward. This pose is you, fully concentrated you."I started thinking about what he said, and miraculously I found some breathing room, some space in the tiny confines of the toppled tower of my body. He was right, I was totally squished up, nowhere else to go but turn inward. I was fully concentrated Kristin--undiluted.And the revelation came there, in the awareness of my undiluted self. I am sometimes uncomfortable being fully concentrated me. I can feel that sometimes in my running, when I stay just beneath my potential and avoid pain. I can feel it when I go after new work, when I play down or play small--either trying to be humble or trying to avoid disappointment if I don't get what I'm after. I know I definitely feel it in my dating life, when I let the ghost voices of the past whisper "you're not enough" when the truth of the matter is that in most cases I am simply too much. I dilute myself at times, trying not to be intimidating with my opinions or abilities even though it is impossible to be 39 and not have opinions and abilities.I'm going to try that pose more often. I'm going to scrunch up and flip over, collapse my lungs and struggle to breathe. I'm going to try to make peace with me--full-strength, unmixed, unadulterated, pure, me. I'm going to force myself to turn in and see what turns up.